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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28873548">The Crossroads: Futures Unwritten</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/transmaniandevil/pseuds/transmaniandevil'>transmaniandevil</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Johnny Silverhand, Canon Trans Character, Crack and Angst, Cyberpunk 2077 Spoilers, Cyberpunk 2077-Typical Violence, Depression, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, End Game Spoilers, Fluff, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Johnny Silverhand Being An Asshole, Johnny Silverhand's Metal Arm, M/M, Millennials, Neurodiversity, Neurology &amp; Neuroscience, Older Man/Younger Man, Please Kill Me, Polyamorous Character, Pop Culture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prophetic Dreams, Queer Themes, Rough Oral Sex, Scientific Accuracy, Soft Johnny Silverhand, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Tarot, Top Goro Takemura, Trans, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Haven Afterlife, Trans Male Character, Trans Male V (Cyberpunk 2077), Trans Rogue, Transphobia, Voice Kink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:55:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,519</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28873548</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/transmaniandevil/pseuds/transmaniandevil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nearing the end of days, V started to dream. He watched himself make choices and taking charge of his destiny. He saw himself and his friends living and dying with the aftermath that followed. If he was really seeing the future, did that mean he could choose differently? Remember those tarot cards?</p><p>"I don't know, V." Claire said casually as she rinsed out a glass, flicking her hair from her face with a thoughtful jerk of the head and a shrug. "But... usually when you meet someone and you operate on the same wavelength and implicitly understand and care for each other? Most people call them soulmates." She had a crooked grin when she sat the glass aside and reached for another empty one on the bar. V reached over and passed it to her, swearing under his breath.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Goro Takemura/V, Johnny Silverhand/V</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Wake up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“These violent delights have violent ends.”</p><p>                V awoke with dying words trapped and rattling in his head and a dry mouth reminiscent of sawdust and metal shavings. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes furiously before peering towards the hazy dawn out his apartment window, half expecting to be swallowed up in the void of space. The creeping sunrise lit up behind Johnny’s head like a halo as the rock-legend-turned-terrorist blithely invaded the scene and blocked V’s view. Johnny flickered in blue hot, pixelating forward in an arc of current, standing next to V’s bed as if sizing him up. V was getting real tired of that haughty attitude.</p><p>                “You sleep all sprawled out like my old dog” Johnny muttered scornfully, “His joints gave out and it wasn’t until every waking moment was shared agony that we knew we had to put him down.” Johnny lit a digital cigarette. Habitual.</p><p>                “What do you want, Johnny?” V couldn’t be bothered to ask about the dog or to get up or crane his neck to meet Johnny’s gaze, and remained staring impassively forward. He still hadn’t completely forgiven Johnny for that joyride he decided to take in V’s body, after all. And so, V tried to remain as impassive and inaccessible as possible to show his disinterest in the hopes that Johnny would take the hint and leave him the hell alone for a change. That was the plan, anyway. Never said it was a good plan. Almost obscenely, his face was approximately eye-level with Johnny’s crotch all decked out in his trademark leather. V owned those pants now. At this realization, V’s response was closer to a muted mortification; Johnny countered it with a smirk and conspicuously rearranged himself. V hated him then just as much as the day they first met. And that was saying something. But you know what they say about hate… V didn’t finish the thought.</p><p>                “You were screaming in your sleep.” Johnny said simply by way of an explanation, “I do my best not to pry—“ V snorted in derision at that, “For fuck’s sake trust me. I do. But seeing as we are in a shared headspace it’s fucking impossible to completely avoid. Especially when things get… intense.” Johnny momentarily was looking a little cagey, anxious and moody, shifting back and forth and flickering in and out of view. Meanwhile, V was feeling stubbornly apathetic. He didn’t feel the need to remark on their relative reversal of baseline states. But if Johnny was suddenly being caring and they had swapped outlooks—by extension that meant V was the asshole. The thought of that disgusted and enraged him, quickly becoming a feedback loop since rage was something typically all Johnny. Not that V had ever been level-headed. He just directed his own rage inward. Less casualties that way. Johnny didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass about avoiding needless casualties. Like yeah they’d sent out an evac when they blew up Arasaka tower, but people still died. And for what?</p><p>                “Johnny, let’s get one thing absolutely clear, ok?” V surged upright suddenly in a snarl, making Johnny take a step back and V had to admit he found a certain amount of satisfaction in that, in making Johnny flinch. “We aren’t ‘sharing’ anything. You’re colonizing, full stop.” Johnny held his hands up in a gesture of surrender.</p><p>                “Hey, not by choice! I promised I to leave once we figure this shit out, didn’t I? Corpos made the damn chip, made that fucked up soul prison, It’s fucking Arasaka you should be mad at, V; not me.” V scowled in response, rising of bed and stretching in part to relive some pent-up stress. Since when did Johnny have to sound so goddamn reasonable? It was easier when Johnny was ridiculous and offensive; he was easier to ignore that way. Johnny suddenly making sense was troubling on a number of levels. Was V really losing himself now? Would he even know when it happened? Because of the clinging nightmare coupled with his imminent death, V’s head was buzzing in panic, which meant that Johnny’s head was buzzing in panic. V had to say something to cut through this tension, dissipate it and make it bearable. Or else Johnny would just escalate it-- because that's what Johnny does--  and it would end up worse than ever—might even short out the chip and kill them both.</p><p>                “Look, it was—just a nightmare, Johnny. Nothing to get worked up over.”</p><p>                “A nightmare.” Johnny repeated, incredulous. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, “Fine. Gonna at least say what about or do I have to figure it out on my own?” V said nothing for a few beats, looked down in a mix of shame and anxiety. Didn’t know how Johnny intended to figure it out for himself and despite himself, V imagined some sort of interrogation, him sitting in a dark room, cuffed to chair, and Johnny backhanding him hard in the face with that sadistic glint in his eyes he sometimes gets. “Whatever works” Johnny shrugged in response, raising an eyebrow because they shared an imagination now. Johnny even being here talking to V as a personality construct was proof of that.</p><p>                “I need to call Goro.” V announced with a rough sigh, pulling on his clothes and running his hands through his hair. And he should probably go see Vic, he supposed. Maybe the chip was doing this to him, like all of V’s current problems it seems. Not that Vic could do a damn thing about it. Thinking of the forlorn look on Vic’s face V remembered with sudden clarity when the old ripperdoc told V to take matters into his own hands left a bitter taste in his mouth, bile, guilt, and something else V couldn’t quite sort out. It was coppery like blood, but with a distinct umami flavor like bad miso—the only kind of miso available in Night City. Until all this, until Johnny, until Goro, V didn’t really expect food could get better. Or worse. Food was food. Something to keep your body alive, not really something to enjoy. Finding the least foul nutrient paste and you’re good to go. He felt like an idiot.</p><p>                “Takemura? Why call that corpo shill?” Johnny exclaimed, baffled. “Don’t get me wrong, V, I get that you want old man honor to fuckin rail you like some 2-bit joytoy” V rolled his eyes at the lewd motions Johnny pantomimed to match, cringing inwardly; he hadn’t mentioned that specific impulse to Johnny, which meant that Johnny must have felt it. Ascertained it. Unless it was just that obvious… V really hoped it was the former.</p><p>                 “C’mon, Johnny, really? Old man? Pot kettle, Johnny. You’re practically the same age.” Johnny didn’t settle for that low-hanging fruit, having much more important shit to worry about. He saw as plain as day that comment was bait. It’s hard to mislead someone who knows your every impulse, knows what you think. He didn’t even have to say he dodged the bait; the flash in his eyes said it all.</p><p>Johnny’s tone became more accusatory as he fumed at feeling so out of the loop, “Just don’t fucking tell me you’re gonna go along with that porcelain bitch’s plan. She’ll hang you both out to dry and you won’t even get to hear me say I told you so.”</p><p>                “Hell no, Johnny.” V spat, scrolling to Takemura’s contact on his mobile, “I’m telling him I’m out.”</p><p>                “Oh.” Johnny didn’t have a clever and venomous retort to that and there was a long stretch of blissful silence; V made sure to savour it while he had the chance. Johnny being briefly dumbfounded by an answer he wasn’t expecting was truly a moment for the history books. “Not to look a gift horse in the mouth” Johnny said at last, “But why the change of heart?”</p><p>                “I just got a pretty clear idea how it’s going to play out is all.” Johnny raised an eyebrow. (<em>Well no shit, thanks Captain Obvious. Guess you’re finally listening to me for a change. Bite me, Johnny.)</em> Sometimes they spoke to each other without saying a damn thing, with almost imperceptible glances and minute changes in facial expression. (<em>Now who’s acting mysterious and brooding, being so intentionally vague? Shut up, Johnny. And a complete asshole, too; it doesn’t suit you, V; it’s a bad look. Being an asshole is a bad look on everyone, Johnny. I never have a bad look.) </em>It was getting more difficult to tell whose thoughts were whose. They still had moments of clarity, but those were getting fewer and farther in-between.</p><p>After a few rings, Takemura answers, sounding low and rough. Hard to tell whether or not it was from sleep. Goro just happened to be blessed by the gods, having a voice like that. If V thought about it too long, it always gave him a little shiver, a thrill of something akin to delight. He tried not to think about Goro’s voice and regularly failed. When V can’t sleep sometimes he finds himself imagining Goro’s voice, just talking to him, or reading to him, and so he tries very hard not to think about it now because Takemura is nothing if not perceptive. He worried Goro will coax it out, this twisting thing with no name (V would dare not name it) and somehow it will ruin everything in the way V always ruins everything. They were both of them, all three of them really, in a fragile place. There’s a time and place for complicated, and time and place for simplicity. The last thing any of them needed were more complications. Surviving in night city was complicated at the best of times. Right now it was near impossible. That’s what V kept telling himself, anyway. It’s not the time, it’s never the time. But he had always been waiting for the right time with Jackie and now he was gone. Whenever that moment was, V had missed it.</p><p>                “V. Good to hear from you. Are you keeping well?” Takemura said in earnest and V felt a sickening lurch at really facing the moment where he was surely about to ruin whatever imaginary chance he had to get to know Goro better. It wasn’t until V started this peculiar friendship with Takemura that Goro would waste his time with pleasantries, with asking how V is doing. According to Taemura’s rules, either one is doing well, or they’re dead. No point in asking.</p><p>                “I’ll, uh, skip the formalities, Goro, if that’s okay with you.” V waited for acknowledgement and tacit permission to go ahead; he know those corpo types and their desperate clinging to protocol, especially in times of enhanced stress. V’s father used to be like that. V could hardly remember what he looked like anymore, just the words he lived by. “Załatwić”, taking care of business- getting things done just don’t ask how. Was the closest V knew that it meant. It wasn’t only relevant in the cutthroat world of corporate capitalism, but to V’s merc work, too. It was in his blood. Survival. Beat to hell and back and still getting back up—whether that meant metaphorically or physically. The second lesson V learned from his father, don’t suffer fools—take no bullshit. It was V’s father that when he heard a plan that clearly wasn’t gonna work out, he would dismiss it with a gruff “Fuck off.” Coincidentally, a traditionalist to the end, that was V’s father’s reaction to his decision to transition. Maybe he knew V would figure it out in the end, survive or die. V had no family left anymore, dead for years.</p><p> </p><p>                “Look, I’m calling to tell you; I’m out. The thing with Hanako. Not doing it.” V said in a rush, as if he wouldn’t be able to get the words out of he didn’t say them all at once. Goro’s warm and radiant friendliness dissipated in a cold ripple, a heavy stone thrown into a pond. V felt it drown him from the other end of the holo, crushed beneath its weight.</p><p>                “I expected better from you, V.” Takemura replied bitterly, made a sound as if about to hang up.</p><p>                “Goro, wait!” V exclaimed in desperation. “Don’t you want to know why?” V asked, voice suddenly small and quiet; embarrassingly meek. He didn’t want to admit it, but Goro’s opinion of him changing seemingly so easily really stung. Johnny lurked just at V’s periphery, intrigued. “You never care what people think, so why do you care what HE thinks? DOES he even think? Or does he just obey orders like some dog” “Not now, Johnny” V hissed under his breath. “Later, ok? I promise we can talk about whatever fucked up thing is going on later.” Johnny huffed dismissively, but ceased his snide commentary for the time being.</p><p>                “No. The reason is irrelevant.” Takemura growled reflexively, then pausing to reconsider for a few moments and amending his stance. More quietly now, as if suddenly afraid someone was listening in--- as if someone wasn’t always listening in. There was no such thing as a truly secure signal, not in 2077 and definitely not in Night City-- , “Why did you decide against talking to Hanako?”</p><p>                “You’re gonna think it sounds all kinds of ridiculous, but… What if I told you I’d seen the future? Really seen it. Not like some AI algorithm could predict and spit out. What if I told you I saw how it all played out and joining up with Hanako turned out to be a bad call? Which is why I’m telling you now that I don’t want to do it… and I don’t think you should do it either.” V winced inwardly at that. Based on what he saw Takemura would end up fine, restored to his former glory. But if V couldn’t go along with his plan, the results were likely more grim, weren’t they?</p><p>                “I’d say, as the Americans do, that you’re full of shit.” Goro grumbled dismissively, “And seeing as your mental state is progressively deteriorating, that even if you believed it, it’s nothing more than a delusion.”</p><p>                “I dunno, maybe I am… and maybe it is” V admitted with some difficulty, “but maybe I can ask you to just confirm something for me?”</p><p>                “I’m listening.”</p><p>                “Ask Hanako about the engram of Saburo Arasaka. Then get back to me.” V hung up before Takemura could completely register the request. He half expected Takemura to call him back immediately, either to demand a more detailed explanation or voice his outrage at the utter absurdity of the whole idea. V was thankful when neither of those things happened right away.</p><p>In fact, Goro didn’t call him until the following day. When V picked up, the line was quiet for several moments, just long enough that V started to worry despite himself. Finally, Goro spoke. “We should meet.” Takemura sounded utterly exhausted and V finally realized that all this, it all was a front. The indignation, the anger that Goro carried with him. The thirst for revenge, for something meaningful and sharp and violent to bring balance back to a chaotic world. Takemura was a diligent and tenacious man who knew no other way to be than always ready for the shit to hit the fan, ready to make things right by any means necessary. V understood that deeply and implicitly. The rat race of the corpos take no prisoners. Either you make peace with your corpo-sponsored stimulant addiction or you end up with nothing and worse off than dead because no one who remembers you will do so with fondness. They’ll remember you as a traitor and a loser, a man without honor. Takemura must want to lay down his arms as much as any war-weary veteran, but V supposes he either can’t or simply doesn’t know how. V could empathize with that, not entirely sure if it was because of his own past experiences or because of Johnny’s.</p><p>                “Wanna meet up at Tom’s again?”</p><p>                “Better than that sad excuse for Japanese cuisine they try to pass off here.”</p><p>                “Ok, meet you there soon. Be safe, Goro.”</p><p>                “And you, V.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Takemura</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>V, a consummate pep talker, meets up with Goro and eventually sucks him off in an alley.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>                “Saburo. The engram. It is true... I am astonished.” Takemura admitted haltingly as he curled protectively around his coffee, the one pleasure a poor man refused to deny himself. Aside from his dangerous (in an assassin type way) poise, he didn’t look much different from the rest of the sorry souls that loitered here in the diner. The morning was grey and dismal.</p>
<p>“Uh-huh.” V sounded unsurprised, tried to play it more confidently than he felt, one of the most useful tricks he’d learned in all his merc days. Act confident enough to be in a place and nobody will question you for fear of looking foolish. Want to get into a sold out show? Throw on a construction vest and bring a ladder. Walk right on in.</p>
<p>“Yesterday I would have been certain that Hanako was our best chance to right Yorinobu’s wrongs. There are a great many things that are now uncertain… I don’t know what to do.”</p>
<p>“Didn’t have a plan B?” V replied with snark. Goro’s deadpan stare said all he needed to say in response.</p>
<p>“What, you don’t wanna book it out of night city? Find some place off the grid, become a nomad? Join a clan, get married, Start a family, leave all this shit behind?” V said in an attempt at a joke before noticing Takemura’s eyes, shining so sorrowfully in the cold morning light. The shrewd and piercing silver was now more withdrawn, more rounded. A magnificent intricacy of wonder, tempered by years and worn down until only the crude simple intent remained like an old coin. V realized then, startled, that Goro’s eyes glinted with tears. They did not fall. It was a practice in carefully controlled emotion; his shoulders belied no tension beyond the professional. His mouth did not scowl or grimace. In all ways save that one minutia, Goro was perfectly stoic. V might be the only person still alive who paid enough attention to the man to notice. V had a feeling Goro had not been underestimated in such a capacity for many years.</p>
<p> “Hey”, V said quietly and gently placed his hand over Takemura’s on the table, squeezing reassuringly as Goro stared mutely into his coffee as if he was considering trying to drown himself in it, “I’m sorry, Goro, I really didn’t mean anything by that.”</p>
<p>“I know, V.” Takemura said, his voice a defeated whisper, “It is tragic that sort of simple life is so impossible for us that it can only exist as humour. And it is ironic I fled from all possibility of a simple life and now I have nothing.  Less than nothing… and nothing to show for it. I’ve worked for so many decades and it is reduced to this… humiliation. I have failed in my position, I have failed at my whole life. There only remained one avenue to me for redemption, but I see now it was nothing but pure fantasy. There can be no redemption for me and I am alone.”</p>
<p>“Goro, you’re not alone. Almost everyone in Night City knows that struggle. It might seem like it’s impossible, but it’s not. You just need to empower yourself to leap into the unknown, you know?” V felt like he was bullshitting for how little he believed his words to apply to himself, “I know you’ve done it before, reinvented yourself. Everyone has to, especially to make it ahead in the corpo world. You can do it again if you have to. You can survive this.” Goro said nothing and drained his coffee, V followed suit. Goro first stood up to pay, but V stopped him, “I got it.” V’s voice held so much conviction that Goro did not argue. They left the diner. Not content with parting ways in such dismal spirits, they wandered together through the streets, V chattering away with whatever happened to pop into his mind. They discussed topics both trivial and monumental. He knew that vibe from Goro. He knew the self-destructive capability of a man with nothing left, whether to gain or to lose. He didn’t feel right leaving Goro alone, especially when V felt somehow like it was all his fault. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything about the engram. Maybe those few weeks ago he should have shouted out in surprise and stopped Yorinobu from murdering Saburo. In a place as hopeless as Night City, the only real power to be had was in connections. Whether that was to a fixer who provided jobs or to a joy toy that provided sex. Or friends who were often scarce. V hoped to be a good friend to Goro. That was the reason behind the cheerful ribbing, the jabs, the companionship. V supposed in a sense Takemura reminded him of himself (albeit a far more impressive version of himself) when he’d first been cast out of Arasaka not all that long ago (though it felt like several lifetimes ago). V had Jackie help him pick up the pieces. Goro could have V. He wasn’t sure if he could do Jackie’s memory justice, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.</p>
<p>                V spent a lot of that time after that meandering realization giving Goro advice that he’d first heard from Jackie. The morning stretched on into midday, yawning wide. A monstrous cat stretching in the afternoon sun. The two of them split a bottle of questionable tequila out of a paper bag. V didn’t say as much, but it was mostly to placate Johnny. He got more pliable when certain vices were involved, such as alcohol.</p>
<p>                “You are wiser than your years, V. I am…” Takemura paused as he searched for the words, as they did not come to him easily, “glad I saved your life.”<br/>                “I’d say the same, but I’d be lying” V chuckles awkwardly, Johnny rolls his eyes, <em>(Hey, shithead; don’t cut yourself on that edge.)</em> “I am glad we met, Goro. I can say that part honestly. I know you think it’s not there or nobody else can see it, but it’s clear to me that there’s something special about you.”</p>
<p>“Truly?” Goro’s stormy eyes were full of wonder, V nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat at what that sort of look might mean and why he was caught so very off guard by it. Johnny tailed behind them, coding in and out of existence, irritated and surly.</p>
<p>V nodded, “You’ll never fade away.” He said reassuringly with an almost sardonic smile. Johnny rolled his eyes from somewhere behind V, groaning in disgust. V felt it more than observed it. “It’s not in the cards, not for you. You’re a survivor. I don’t think I know anyone alive as driven in Night City or more formidable as you, Goro. Not even Adam Smasher. You’re a tough bastard, you’ll be alright.”  </p>
<p>“I am not used to such kindness.” Goro admitted “You give good counsel. Maybe I really can leave Arasaka, leave night city. Build a new life.” A Herculean task, but it was a way out. It was easy to despair when you felt backed into a corner. But you always can either rise up above it or tunnel into the earth. They were easy to ignore because they did not come naturally—most people would find themselves surging forward and impaling themselves on the harsh spearing reality of a lost cause. “This new life I hope to be less solitary.” Takemura added thoughtfully, stroking his beard idly.</p>
<p>                 Takemura’s eyes glow with a sudden spark of mischief when he turns to look V in the eyes, “If I truly am the silver fox you once professed me to be it should prove no challenge to find companionship, yes?” V stopped cold. Here he was thinking he was keeping this shit under wraps and it was still plain as day. Shameful. He could feel himself blushing, and Johnny’s mocking amusement did not help.</p>
<p>“Uhhhhhh when did I say that exactly?” V asked awkwardly, eyes wide with sudden panic and an urge to turn and run that he barely managed to fight off, only because he would feel even more foolish then.</p>
<p>“When we first met. You were delirious; I would not expect you to remember.” Goro’s voice was warm and kind where it was usually cold and clipped. The wind whipped trash about them in an imitation of a tornado. For whatever reason, V felt spellbound.</p>
<p>The young merc, ears burning hot, buried his face in his hands, having the strangest urge to just laugh a long wild hyena cackle—whatever the fuck a hyena was. Maybe that was more Johnny’s urge and not his own.</p>
<p>“Under normal circumstances, I would not have brought it up.” Goro explains with a soft, almost apologetic smile, “Using a dying man’s words against him, as amusing as they may be, is both foolish and uncouth.”</p>
<p>“So… why are you bringing it up now?” V asked, feeling both breathless and light-headed with embarrassment as he lowered his hands, trying to resume a more casual demeanor. A quiet sense of foreboding glowed like scattered embers within that bewitched feeling as they meandered down an alley and wove through some construction scaffolding. V noticed they were together wandering well away from the busy streets and away from any prying eyes in unspoken agreement. When they were safe within a labyrinth of buildings and alleys, they turned again to one another. Takemura, with a decidedly wolfish look about him, backed V into the wall with a ruthless sense of purpose. V scraped up against the brick, eyes wide, not daring himself to speak.  He felt the rough brick wall digging into his back with a delightful, scorching clarity. The scraping heat along his spine reminded V, in its own sticky crimson way— that this was real.</p>
<p>                “Because now I wish to do something foolish and uncouth.” Takemura breathes, crowding in, trapping V there between his arms and the wall in that alcove near the scaffolding in this hidden alley, capturing V’s lips in a bruising kiss. After several moments, Takemura paused to let V regain his bearings and Goro watched intently as V’s tongue flicked out to absentmindedly wet his lips. The first time was absentminded, anyway. The second, because V watched Goro watching, was clearly intentional, slower, showing the smallest peek of the silver stud in V’s tongue. The two of them were both breathing hard and ragged with desire and stunned by their outrageous recklessness. All the same, Goro cocked his head questioningly, “Do you wish to continue?” V nodded hurriedly, dropping to his knees in front of Takemura, posturing in obedient reverence, at least for now. He kneeled at attention, with intention. He sat ramrod straight, his arms drawn back and his hands clasped behind his back. He let the cool roughness of the wall play under his fingers absentmindedly, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks at Takemura’s hungry stare, just for him.</p>
<p>                Takemura, as carefully controlled of a front as he projected was a man not immune to rash impulse. This much had long been clear, from his last minute decision to abduct Hanako to almost starting a brawl with Tom the first time he and V met at the diner. V wasn’t sure if this is precisely what Goro had in mind, using V’s mouth in a back alley. When in Night City? The veteran bodyguard looked down to meet V’s hopeful bright eyes staring back up at him.</p>
<p>                “C’mon, Goro” V cajoled with a playful smirk at Goro’s sudden, fleeting hesitation of disbelief at what they were about to do. “What, you wanted to suck me off? Show me you appreciate me?” V pawed at Goro’s trousers, urging Goro to undo them enough to slip his rapidly hardening dick out. V looked the part of the mewling quim, like he couldn’t wait to get his hands and his mouth around Takemura’s cock. Trembling with want, both of them. Takemura stared at V with bright, shrewd silver eyes as if he had never seen anyone quite like V before and was memorizing this. “We both know damn well your knees can’t handle this concrete, old man.” V barked out a laugh and that was enough to break Takemura’s tenuous grasp on his self-control.</p>
<p>With a brutality and swiftness that belied his former position, Takemura roughly gathered V’s hair in his fist. He yanked V’s head back, that familiar growl of discontent roiling in Takemura’s throat to counter V’s pleased whimper. Inexorably, Takemura guided his cock to V’s mouth, a fierce and wild look in his eyes. V opened his mouth as wide as he dared—he could tell this was going to be a strain on his muscles. His jaw was already aching in sympathy for what was to come. His breath was already catching. He stared up at Takemura briefly, taking him in, knowing V had the rare privilege of seeing Goro undone like this. Someone who didn’t know Goro might consider his face a mask of neutrality—but V by now felt like he had a handle on reading Goro’s various micro-expressions, the tiniest turn of a smile, eyes flashing with amusement or rage. With a gesture of immense trust that was not at all lost on Goro, V let his own eyes flutter shut to better focus on the task before him.</p>
<p>A soft groan of intermingled desire and wonder escaped Goro’s lips despite his usual stoicism and he pushed forward. V’s soft encouraging moans were first gradually muffled, then cut off completely as he choked and sputtered, the lines of his facial cybernetics glistening with streaming tears. Takemura, bracing himself against the wall and brought his hips to a carefully controlled halt. He waits a beat, then two. V’s eyes are open now, his frantic energy bleeding outward from them with sparks and embers. V struggled to maintain composure against every single primal survival instinct, neck straining as he tipped his head to meet Goro’s eyes. First, the heat of suffocation, the heat of Goro made him burn up—then he was ice cold, floating somewhere in the void of space. Almost as if he could sense V’s vision growing spotty around the edges like old film, Goro pulls back, lets him gasp for breath. And he does. His voice is hoarse when he rasps, coughing,</p>
<p>                “Gonna be a gentleman now, Goro? After all we been through? You don’t fool me.”</p>
<p>                Goro growled in response, driving the point home by forcing his cock deep down V’s throat again, making staccato aimed thrusts to stimulate himself without letting V draw a full breath.</p>
<p>                “Always the rebel, V.” Takemura rumbles, the words torn from somewhere deep within him as he withdraws completely and steps back, cock spearing the air obscenely glistening. Before V can take a full breath, Takemura backhands him hard across the face, sending V’s imagination spiraling momentarily back to that day in the junkyard, to dying. V whimpers with desire because he realizes he’d wanted all this even then, even after a bullet to the head. V watched Goro idly stroke his full length, watched him smear the spit and precome across the head, fingers catching on his foreskin almost like an afterthought. V kneels now plaintively, trying his very best to look enticing.</p>
<p>                “But even you can be brought to heel.” Goro murmurs, almost to himself, taking the bait, momentarily blinded by his position of dominance and moving forward again. This was what V was counting on. A moment; it was all he needed. Moments make or break lives, break futures. Even these.</p>
<p>                “I wouldn’t count on it.” V retorts with a smirk. With the deft hands of a seasoned merc, V darts his hands out, catching Takemura by the belt-loops of his fancy suit pants and drags him bodily closer. Goro, caught off guard, surged forward and the pair almost toppled to the ground. Takemura was the first to regain his balance, catlike and glaring. V, for what it was worth, stared sheepishly down at the ground, but he bristled still.</p>
<p>                A silence befell that was so still and oppressive, V started to worry he’d pushed too many boundaries and ruined their moment. It took a beat for him to work up the nerve, so certain Takemura would show his displeasure by zipping himself back up and leaving V there alone. When he tore his eyes away from the ground, he looked up at Goro, still standing there. He wasn’t glaring now, though, merely looked appraising—thoughtful. Goro’d been waiting for him to muster the courage to look up, V realized with a start. They both stared at each other, saying nothing. When the anticipation (and the dull ache in his knees) simmered all the way up his trembling body making V’s eyes, his whole countenance wild pink, did Goro finally speak.</p>
<p>                “You always find ways to surprise me, V.” Goro whispers, words tangling sinister before evaporating into nothing but smoke, which cleared before Goro’s cool metallic silver gaze, and V felt a lump rising in his throat at the unbidden association to his own Dark Passenger, as Vik had taken to calling Johnny’s engram as sort of an attempt at a euphemism. The doc had said it was from a book, just shrugged and jokingly complained about being an old man. But it stuck. His Dark Passenger; like calling him by his name would summon him like a demon. Before V’s mind could run away with him further, Takemura snapped him sharply back to attention when he seized V’s jaw in one elegant hand, steading him and peering closer, boring into him as if to read his mind.</p>
<p>                “I think this is sufficient punishment for your transgression.” The older man calmly reasserted control over the situation. At Goro’s words V’s hope had waned, wilted, withered away, now raised back to life with a vengeance as it burned with something between embarrassment and desperation. “I do not tolerate disobedience, V. Be still” Takemura reminded him, his fingers trailing lightly up V’s face, first towards his neck. V flinched momentarily at the ticklish sensation, managing to keep it barely contained. Goro’s hand continued into V’s hair where it pulled and pet idly and unpredictably, catching V between the sensations. Then Goro drew his hand down V’s face. When his fingertips trailed towards V’s eyes, they closed on reflex—Goro paused and let the pads of his fingers rest for just a moment on V’s eyelids. V took the hint that he should keep them closed. Even without the latest corporate optics, Goro could see V’s pulse point jumping in his throat. Goro resumed his borderline reverent exploration. He slid his hand over V’s nose, gently flicking the septum ring, and caught V’s bottom lip with his thumb as V harshly panted. Goro noted the merest split in V’s bottom lip from when Takemura had hit him. He spread what little blood welled across as he urged V’s mouth open further. V eagerly complied, kneeling tall again despite the stiff pain in his knees, arms clasped behind his back in a pointed show of good faith. And so Takemura took him, used his mouth thoroughly. When the tension coiled within him to its peak, he pushed all the harder down V’s throat. V tried to repeatedly swallow, mind a dull glowing haze, blissfully empty, only a small, very far away part of him feeling like he was drowning. When Takemura finally pulled back, using his hand to push the last of his release out the tip, he painted V’s lips with it—and made a small huff of fond amusement when V’s tongue reached out to chase it.</p>
<p>Goro tucked himself back into his pants and zipped back up—he regarded V’s pretty face and bruised lips with naked admiration. V still knelt there, quiet, as nicely as possible, eyes still firmly closed until Takemura gave him a verbal release from the command. When Goro finally did, unable to justify extending this one moment in time forever—indeed wishing he could have recorded it on a Brain Dance—V blearily, but cheerfully brought himself back to a state of complete awareness. V wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, coughing roughly, but smiling the whole time. He then grasped Takemura’s outstretched hand, gratefully accepting the help getting to his feet, staggering momentarily until the feeling properly returned to them.</p>
<p>                “Wow, that was—“ V started to fill the silence.</p>
<p>                “Good.” Takemura finished his thought for him. “You did very well, V.” He gave the smallest indication of a formal bow of gratitude. V wasn’t sure if Goro meant the blowjob or just V’s self-control, so he decided it must be both. So why did V feel suddenly glaringly awkward now, of all times? It didn’t make any sense, so he additionally felt anxious about that for good measure. Something had shifted between him and Takemura, imperceptible aside from the ache and the lightning quick jolts of emotion sparking between them and he didn’t know what to do with that. Takemura, in all his wisdom (V supposed), for once seemed to be going with it, rolling with the punches—it felt like an unfair role reversal. But Takemura had finally chilled out, V noted, and the self-destructive urge had long faded. All in all, mission accomplished. V allowed himself to relax, note by note, in turn.</p>
<p>                “Hey, Goro, I’m gonna head home, alright? I gotta clear my head, yeah?” V murmured. He half-expected Goro to demand an explanation, or demand to accompany him and walk him home. Goro only looked at V, considered for a moment, and nodded. “I will… catch you later.” Goro searched to find the expression, smirking slightly. The two resilient souls faced each other bidding their farewells, still hidden safely away in a concrete labyrinth. In lieu of an embrace or a kiss, Takemura clasped V’s shoulders with both hands, squeezing softly, the gesture somehow feeling more intimate than either one. They both nodded at each other, sharing and holding close this moment to look back in on again when the rest of the world was going to shit, this one small respite. They each turned and went their separate ways, alone but for their shadows that doggedly followed reaching across the grim expanse of Night City towards each other no matter their distance apart.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Folie à Deux</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Johnny Silverhand was born in 1988 and that makes him 1) a millennial and 2) probably one of the guys I had a crush on in high school when they were a senior and I was a freshman.</p><p>He and V walk around Night City and talk. Movie References and Outrage. It's almost wholesome.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>                Not very long into V’s solo walk home he was no longer alone. The engram of bitter anarchist Johnny Silverhand loped behind him. The burning intensity of his stare urged V to slow down long enough for the disaffected musician to catch up. V slowed down despite the fact they both knew that Johnny could have just as easily materialized at V’s side, or in front of him for that matter. V didn’t need to be sharing a headspace with Johnny to know that whatever this was—it was nothing but some weird sad attempt at a powerplay. A powerplay for Johnny to assuage some unspoken insecurity and see that V would still do stuff for him. Would inconvenience himself for nothing but Johnny’s amusement. There was no irritation or malice surrounding this, at least not from V--- because he would more than inconvenience himself for Johnny’s and that wasn’t in question. He’d told Johnny he’d take a bullet for him and he’d meant it. Playing along with some performative bid for reassurance was easy. Besides, V’d had enough practice assuaging jilted egos back when he was still trying to pretend to be a girl; he was used to it.</p><p>                With V’s penchant for romantic flings with older men, he was used to this exact flavor of put-ons from wannabe Johnny Silverhands. Entertaining them was almost second nature. For every grizzled washed up junkie wanting to end their midlife crisis in a blaze of glory against the establishment, V was always the ghost on the sidelines. It was never clear if he was the one to drag their mangled egos from the rubble or if he was the one to light the charge that brought it all down. Either way, it was a type. The oldest ones, the ones who were starting to lose it upstairs and thought it was like, the 2010s again or something said he was their manic pixie dream girl. Since V transitioned, some of them thought they were clever in subverting that and said he was a depressive demon nightmare boy. Some said he was both. He thought the whole lot of it was garbage. Still, V was used to dealing with garbage.</p><p>                Since all those sad old men wanted more than anything to be Johnny Silverhand, that’s probably where this understanding came from. It was just because V was a nice guy. It was that—and not that V understood implicitly because he had lived Johnny’s memories so intimately as if they were his own, as if they always had been. That’s what V told himself, anyway. He idly wondered which memories of his Johnny had seen, but he was a little too afraid to ask; he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. They didn’t really talk about things the other had seen much; he supposed it was because they both knew it would blend together soon enough anyway. All the same, V kept that visceral terror of Johnny’s last moments tucked close to his chest like it was something as sacred as it was profane, unspeakable. Maybe it was.</p><p>                When Johnny catches up, V and Johnny walk side by side, unconsciously matching each other step for step. They don’t have a destination, not really. As packed with life as Night City was, sometimes there was desolation no matter where one turned. It didn’t matter where they went.</p><p>                “So you think that Arasaka Dog’s really given up on The Porcelain Bitch?” Johnny asks, trying to sound nonchalant. The hard steel edge in his voice gives it away.</p><p>                “You mean Goro?” V corrected Johnny sharply and with a fleeting glare. “I dunno.” V then admitted, shrugging, “I’m pretty sure he’s written her off, though. Hanako, I mean.”</p><p>                “What, you think playing therapist and then blowing him sealed the deal?” Johnny snarked. V was quiet for a second, absentmindedly rubbing his throat where he knew Goro’s handprints would leave a nasty bruise come morning. V smiled to himself.</p><p>                “Shit, maybe!” V laughed at that idea. “Hadn’t thought of that.”</p><p>                “I’m just gonna pretend you never said that and it was part of your plan the whole time” Johnny remarks wryly. It wasn’t clear whether he was joking or not. Then he clears his throat obnoxiously and says as casually and openly as if he was remarking on the weather, “So, you played Goro like a fiddle...” (Oh shit he really decided to go for it. V thinks to himself, wondering at how the hell someone can lie to themselves so easily) “I guess I can respect that.” Johnny says with a shrug and a smirk that hides a grimace.</p><p>                “Oh wow thanks just what I’ve always wanted” V responds sarcastically. Johnny punches him in the shoulder, not very hard. They both find themselves grinning at each other at the same moment, awkwardly looking away just as quickly. They walk down one of the many streets and Johnny is forced to phase through a rush of people spilling out of an alleyway as some gunshots sound not that far off. The two men pay it no mind. They grew up here, after all.</p><p>                “Be real with me, V.” Johnny says when they’re more or less alone again, “How did you know about the Saburo engram?”</p><p>                “I told you already.” V said, slightly irritated. “It happened in my dream. But probably any idiot could piece together that Saburo would have already immortalized himself if he was working on that kind of tech.” V shrugged.</p><p>                “Yeah, maybe.” Johnny responds, “So what, you actually think you’re having prophetic fucking dreams now or something? You been huffing black lace when I wasn’t looking?” V shakes his head in the negative. “Taking Blood of Christ?” V shakes his head again. “Synthcoke?” Then at the negative reply, “PCP?” It’s honestly starting to feel like Johnny’s just rattling off the names of various drugs and V is starting to laugh when he keeps shaking his head to each one. Johnny’s starting to laugh, too; it’s infectious like that. Johnny lists as many substances as he can think of and by the end they’re both cracking up and not even sure why. V doesn’t bother to ask him if Johnny has personal experience with all of those drugs; doesn’t need to. Then Johnny gets to the end of his mental list. V wasn’t sure if either one of them knew what they were really talking about anymore. He didn’t really want to think about it. Whatever this was between them, this easy companionship, he wanted this to keep happening. It beat arguing by miles.</p><p>                 “Warp Drive!” Johnny exclaims just as triumphant as he is accusatory as he points at V like he’s solved some big mystery.</p><p>                “Johnny, seriously? I’d never be able to afford that shit.” V chuckles. They walk along the sidewalk like two chooms; it was bittersweet. Reminded V of when he used to hang out with Jackie—he was pretty sure Jackie and Johnny wouldn’t have gotten along, though. Not even a little.</p><p>                “Fuck, you’re right.” Johnny huffs, dejected, stuffing his hands into his pockets with a mostly fake scowl. Then he says, stopping to stare V right in the eyes so V knew he was serious, “So prove it. Prove you can tell the future. What number am I thinking of?”</p><p>            V rolls his eyes and sighs, “I’m gonna say it’s 69…? But I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be for reading minds.“</p><p>            “Hmph. Lucky guess.” Johnny says simply, scowling, and narrows his eyes at V, unimpressed. V stares at Johnny thinking that he’s hilarious and doesn’t even know it, which is probably the best part about it all. “Fine, whatever.” Johnny says at V’s peculiar expression, “So, you say you dreamt about the future. How’d it happen?”</p><p>                “Shit, Johnny, I don’t know!” V exclaims in good-natured frustration, “I don’t know what else to call it. What happened was I met with Hanako, shit got dicey with the construct.” Johnny pulls a face at that, almost a wince. V continues unabated, “Then you told me that if I got back in bed with Arasaka that I’d regret it and you wouldn’t even be there to help. And you asked me why I was so fucking stubborn.”</p><p>                “That does sound like something I’d say.” Johnny still thought V was winding him up, V was sure of it. Then Johnny says, “But it doesn’t prove anything. You know everything I would say. Probably even know my first word.”</p><p>                “Yeah, it was ‘cunt’.” V rolled his eyes with a laugh. Johnny found himself smiling, too, despite himself.</p><p>                 “Hey, it’s a good word!” Johnny protested, but without any outrage behind it. They both were still grinning like a couple of fools. Johnny was the first one who fell back to earth. “So what, you’re not fucking with me? You’re saying you actually think you’re having prophetic dreams now? No bullshit?” He asks, then comments, “I guess I’ve heard weirder. But shit, V, Isn’t losing your mind to a personality good construct enough for you?”</p><p>                V replies, “I mean they’re only kinda dreams, not exactly dreams. It’s more like… I felt like I lived it. I decided to work with Hanako, took the blockers. And I remember everything that happened after. And then I woke up in bed this morning. Prolly doesn’t even make any sense.” V’s sheepish laugh is cut short, surprised when Johnny fixes him with a deadly grim expression.</p><p>                “Oh shit.” Johnny says, almost whispers as if he thinks he’s going to be overheard and has forgotten that he doesn’t exist. “Like Groundhog day?”</p><p>                “Uh, What’s Groundhog Day?” V responds, eyebrow raised in bemusement. (And for that matter, what even is a ground hog)</p><p>                “Are you fucking KIDDING me, V?” Johnny roars so suddenly that V takes a step back in shock. V folds his arms across his chest a little defensively, a little impassively; he knows a Johnny rant when he sees one. “It’s a fucking classic! I am going to make you watch that movie, so help me, we are going home to watch it right the fuck now, it's gotta be streaming somewhere--” Johnny tries ineffectually to grab V by the arm and drag him back towards home. V shook off Johnny’s hand, swallowing a pang of disappointment at the loss of contact, and cast Johnny a warning glare, “Johnny, I'm not in the mood for any movie nights right now. In case you forgot, I'm dying. Got better shit to do than waste my life in front of a screen.” V starts back off in the direction they’d been heading in. Johnny, shaking his head in disbelief, follows after him. They keep bouncing ideas off each other about the mess they’ve found themselves in.</p><p>                “You know how we’ve been seeing those tarot cards imposed everywhere?” V says with a sudden spark of epiphany, “They showed up along with the biochip, but it really doesn’t seem like your style, so… maybe that has something to do with these dreams or whatever.” V was grasping at straws, but it was as good a guess as any. Johnny grunted in acknowledgement.</p><p>                “Maybe you should visit what’s-her-face---Misty--- about all this then? She’s into all that esoteric mumbo jumbo. Maybe she’ll know what this is all about. Worth a shot?” Johnny suggested.</p><p>                The idea was so obvious V felt stupid for not having thought of it, and thought of it way sooner, “Shit that’s actually a really preem idea.” He groaned, feeling like a complete dumbass.</p><p>                “I’d hoped that by now you’d have realised I am chock full of preem ideas.” Johnny points out with a certain mischievous look in his eyes.</p><p>                “I wouldn’t call blowing up Arasaka tower a particularly preem one.” V retorts, rolling his eyes as he digs through his pockets for his smokes and pulls them out along with his lighter.</p><p>                “It would have been if it fucking stayed down!” Johnny protested just a moment, easing up when he saw V tapping the pack, pulling out a cigarette, and placing it between his lips. Johnny, a little distracted, wondered why he hadn’t noticed before how full V’s lips looked, how soft. Johnny forgot he had intended on being annoyed, so he shrugged and said, “Hey, who knows? Maybe it’ll stick next time around.”</p><p>                “Maybe”. V murmured thoughtfully in agreement and lit the cigarette. They kept walking.</p><p> </p>
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